


the nyainth horizon

by esnoyuuutsu



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Gen, HAHAHA YALL DIDNT REALLY THINK I WASNT GONNA PUT THAT TAG IN HERE DID U???, M/M, Multi, but azami guy mizutsuzu the ikarugas and itaru are there, harutasu (and reni and mugi very briefly) only appear in ch 4, i'm not tagging everyone who appears in ch 3, nein (the sanhora album) au, summer + sakuya appear in the second ch but they don't do much, technically a fuyupoly but only alice azu hiso appear sjdfhsjshdfs, yukishiro conspiracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22198159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esnoyuuutsu/pseuds/esnoyuuutsu
Summary: All Hisoka had wanted to do was find his sunglasses.—if it had been another way, would something have changed?// crossover au! spoilers for...anything past part 1 main story honestly
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Mikage Hisoka/Yukishiro Azuma, Asuka Haruto/Takatoo Tasuku, August & Mikage Hisoka & Utsuki Chikage, August/July (A3!), Ikaruga Madoka & Ikaruga Misumi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. the attic shop of western antiquities

**Author's Note:**

> this is a crossover au with nein, a sound horizon album!! for the full "what the fuck is this" experience [please take a listen](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7lWOQ02vEcBDyPVhlhFIc3?si=hoOJvKD1SyWcaSmmNyWZ4w) as you read it.

“You psycho sleeper!”

Yuki’s voice could pierce eardrums.

“...sorry.”

Hisoka looked at a spot on the wall next to Yuki’s head. He’d lost the shades that went with his costume for Risky Game, and was now facing the boy’s full wrath.

“Don’t pout at me, Hisoka! How many times have I told you not to sleep in random places in costume?” An angry hand flicked Yuki’s hair from his face. “And you know who has to ask the actual yakuza for a better budget? That’s right, me!”

“Look. Go find them wherever the hell you last slept, or next time  _ you _ can convince Sakyo that we can’t wear cheap crap onstage, and when he yells even you might wake up.”

There was nothing Hisoka could think to say.

“...well? What are you waiting for? Go!”

* * *

Of everywhere he’d slept recently, the attic room was perhaps the most likely place Hisoka could’ve left the shades. Since Winter had fixed it up, it had become a comfortable little nest for him to just fall asleep for hours and hours on end, causing him to lose all sense of time and space upon waking.

Though wide awake as he was, it felt as if he was climbing for an eternity—with every step bringing him no closer to his destination.

After what seemed to be an entire day, he arrived at the attic.

And yet, he hadn’t.

Instead of the tiny room strewn with rugs and cushions lovingly picked out by Azuma, Hisoka had arrived at what looked like the dorm’s storage room that never got cleaned out, only much larger—elaborate costumes draped over boxes filled to the brim with props, knives and swords laid out on tables for display, and shelves lining the walls as far as the eye could see.

“Oh, welcome! It’s been quite a while since I last had a visitor.”

A familiar voice called out to him, and Hisoka stopped in his tracks.

Pale green hair softly turning white at the ends, kind violet eyes, a smile he knew by heart.

“A...August…?” Hisoka reached out a shaking hand, unsure if he was in a dream once more, an unearthly glow around August making him fear that the moment they touched, August would vanish in a puff of smoke.

Concern touching his gentle eyes, August came closer. “Is something wrong?”

Hisoka’s breath caught in his throat, his vision blurring.

“Oh...oh no.” Murmuring softly, August began to wipe away the tears sliding down Hisoka’s cheeks, the ring cold against his skin but a welcome sign that he was awake, and that August truly was there. “It’s alright, everything’s okay.”

Hisoka closed his eyes, feeling a strange breeze brushing past his face.

“Are you lost, my dear?” At this, Hisoka’s eyes snapped back open, as it was no longer August’s voice before him, but Azuma’s. “You poor little thing.”

“A...Azuma?”

That said, Azuma was somehow in August’s clothes, hoodie and all. August himself was nowhere to be seen, and Hisoka was beginning to suspect he’d fallen asleep without realising it. Either that, or he had stumbled into another one of Mankai's seven mysteries.

“Why are you here...shouldn’t you be in rehearsal with everyone else?” Hisoka asked, pointless as it was to question a dream.

“I’m right where I should be, sweetheart.” Azuma cupped Hisoka’s cheek with one hand that still wore August’s ring, and laughed softly. “Take all the time you need to look around.”

Hisoka stood, in confusion, as Azuma walked back through the boxes. "If you see anything you like, just let me know." Mid-sentence, he was enveloped by a cloud of mist and violet butterflies, and it was not Azuma, but Chikage who came out.

"Wh…" Following him through the maze of objects, Hisoka's voice trailed off as he disappeared around a corner.

He was definitely going to get scolded for sleeping through rehearsals.

Unable to wake himself from what was certainly a dream, Hisoka gave in and examined the loose props around the room. Some seemed familiar, like the swords that Tasuku and Guy used in Winter's previous play, or the wings from Sympathy. Others he had never seen before, like a scythe propped up in a shadowy corner, or a spindle tipped with something dark that made him wonder if he would wake up if he touched it, in a strange reversal of a fairy tale.

Hisoka felt something brush against his leg. It was a silvery-white cat, looking up at him with big yellow eyes.

“...are you lost too?”

He picked it up, taking a look at the tag on the collar around its neck.

“...triangle…?”

The cat tilted its head at him, as if to say he’d called it by the wrong name. He considered how strange everything else in the room had been, and he realised how the tag was read.

“Misumi,” said Hisoka, the cat meowing happily in response. “...so this is why you’re so good at talking to cats,” he joked.

As he continued walking, he discovered more cats, Misumi jumping from his arms to join them. Sitting down with them, he soon found that all of them shared their names with Summer.

“Did a witch put a curse on you?” he said, petting cat Tenma’s orange head as the others clustered around him.

“Now who are you calling a witch?” A voice he knew, followed by a laugh that sent a chill down Hisoka’s spine even though he knew it was only a dream and no harm would befall him. The cats walked away from him, to the owner of the voice, and he looked up.

In a shimmering violet dress and matching long gloves, butterflies tied into his hair and dangling from his earrings, July leaned down to pick up a cat.

“...not you, for sure.” Hisoka stood, unsteadily.

“Good.” July flashed a smile, walking towards a nearby counter. “I hope the children haven’t been bothering you.”

“The cats…? No,” said Hisoka. Gathering his strength, he stepped up to the counter. “Just what is this place, anyway. And who are you.”

“Me?” A puff of smoke and butterflies, and it was Azuma who answered him. “I’m whatever you want me to be, darling.” Laughing softly at Hisoka’s flustered attempt at a reply, August pulled his shawl closer around himself. “And this is an attic shop that I run, all on my own. If there’s anything that catches your eye, don’t be afraid to give it a look.”

Casting a defeated glance at cat Yuki walking along the table, something hit Hisoka.

Right there on the table in front of him, Yuki pawing at them, was the pair of sunglasses he’d lost.

“This…!”

Keeping his eyes trained on the sunglasses in case somehow they disappeared as he felt they might in the surreal atmosphere of the attic shop, Hisoka slowly picked them up.

“Now, if you keep looking at me so intensely like that,” July laughed, resting his head against his hand. “I’m going to get a bit worked up, you know?” Opening a fan, Chikage gave it a flutter.

Ignoring the shopkeeper’s past two iterations, Hisoka held up the sunglasses. “These are mine.”

Azuma tilted his head, his fingers absently flicking an earring. “Well, that little one is a bit special. It likes to choose its owner, so if that’s alright with you?”

Hisoka frowned. “I don’t think you understand,” he said, folding and unfolding the sunglasses. “They’re part of my play costume and I lost them. Right, Yuki?”

The cat hissed in response.

Shushing the cat, running a hand over it, Chikage leaned closer. “Well, if they already belong to you, then there’s no issue, is there?”

“...really? Can I just...take them?”

“Of course.”

“In exchange,” said July, his voice low as he looked at Hisoka with an unreadable expression. “Why don’t I take what you value most as payment?”

Hisoka stared straight into July’s burning yellow eyes. “You’ve already done that once.”

He smiled. “It was a joke,” replied August.

The alarms that had been ringing in the back of his mind were slowly starting to get louder, and Hisoka hesitated to take the shopkeeper at his word.

Azuma traced a line down Hisoka’s cheek with a gloved finger as his vision began to blur. “Thank you for your patronage.”

Before Hisoka could get another word in, he found himself lying on his pillows in the attic room. He sat up, in a daze, still clutching the sunglasses, wondering if he had truly woken up.

He held them up to his face, turning them over in his hands.

Without thinking, Hisoka unfolded them, and rather than put them atop his head where they belonged, he put them on.

Everything turned pitch black as his ears began to ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEI! YOU! KOT! TOU! YANEURADOU!
> 
> i hope that the part with chikage azuma july and august all switching places every other sentence was appropriately confusing enough bc that's how it be.
> 
> as usual i'm at @esnoyuuutsu on twitter as well, if u want to yell at me (i am fragile please be kind)


	2. the garden in the cage

Hisoka blinked.

He took the sunglasses off, and looked through the lenses without putting them on. They appeared to be completely normal sunglasses otherwise, only somewhat dimming his surroundings.

He put them back on, and was nearly blinded by bright colourful lights and falling stars flashing past his eyes.

Next to him, Sakuya and Muku in cat outfits from their respective plays linked their arms with his. So he  _ was _ still dreaming, then.

A shadow appeared in the lights, surrounded by the rest of Summer also in their cat play costumes. "...sleep is, strictly speaking, a short death. And death, but an eternal sleep."

_ What the hell? _

The shadow moved, Summer passing their hands around it in an imitation of putting on clothes, causing it to flicker into colour in patches as it spoke. "As it has been so long since I last woke, am I the same  _ me _ that I was before I slept?"

With the finishing touches of Kumon wrapping a long scarf around his neck and Tenma reaching up to place a pair of cat ears atop his head, standing in front of Hisoka, curiously staring at his hair as he twirled it in his fingers, was—

"...Alice?"

Homare smiled and lightly tilted his head. "It would seem so, but not quite, my boy."

"Residing within this pair of sunglasses you have on right now is a powerful artificial intelligence, capable of analysing the possibilities of timelines other than your own."

Hisoka glanced at Sakuya, then Muku, both of them shrugging at him.

"...so, like a computer."

"Yes."

"And that's you."

"It is." Homare put a hand to his chin. "I took on the appearance of Arisugawa Homare as the two of you are roommates, and you seem to be accustomed to him explaining things to you, but—"

Hisoka raised an eyebrow. "You think I actually listen when he does that?"

"—if you are uncomfortable with it," Homare continued, a perfect replica of the poet himself in slight exasperation. "I can change to another."

Summer put their hands in front of him, Tsumugi adjusting the scarf in his place when they pulled away. "What about your troupe's leader?"

Repeating the gesture only with Izumi instead, she asked, "The company's director? Or maybe family would be more comforting—"

Hisoka shook his head. He'd had enough of this for one day. "Alice is fine, I guess. Just...don't do that."

"Very well," said Homare, Summer sprawling out on a set of lit stairs that had flicked on behind him. "Now that we've settled that, we can move on to a greater issue."

"Yeah," said Hisoka, following their lead and sitting on the floor. "What's with the cats."

Homare paused, joining everyone on the floor, crossing his long legs over the stairs. "...I suppose I can explain both."

"My dears, if you would assist me?" At Homare's request, Misumi and Tenma sat up, Sakuya sliding over between them.

"There is a famous thought experiment popularised by the physicist Erwin Schrodinger," said Homare. "Picture a cat, inside of a box."

Misumi and Tenma linked hands around Sakuya pawing at imaginary walls.

"Along with our little friend, a container of radioactive material and a vial of poison."

"If the radioactive material decays, a machine will break the vial, killing the cat."

Sakuya slumped over, leaning against Tenma looking down in bemusement.

"If you open the box, you will see whether the cat is alive, or dead. However! If the box is closed, eventually, those two possibilities will overlap."

"In other words, it is in a state of being both dead," Homare turned to ruffle Sakuya's hair as he held still to keep from laughing.

"And alive." Just as the Cheshire cat, Sakuya flickered back next to Hisoka, a mischievous grin on his face.

Misumi and Tenma let go of each other's hands. "And only by opening the box will you find out which." Sakuya sat up, between them once more, shaking his head and batting lightly at an ear.

"Oh, huh, I see, I get it now," said Hisoka, nodding unconvincingly. "What does that have to do with anything."

Kazunari leaned forward on his hands. "I think we're like, set dressing."

"Pretty much," yawned Yuki, his back against Kazunari's. "Alice needed to explain how different timelines exist all at once using that cat experiment, so...cats."

"It's a super cute theme tho!"

Homare waved his hands. "Yes, yes, darlings, that's enough. I suppose it would be more effective to simply show Hisoka-kun directly."

"Quite possibly the reason I was created, my purpose, as it were—to take the threads of 《a tragedy》 and weave them into another  story."

A shower of falling stars and lights shone before Hisoka's eyes.

"And now, we open the box."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know casting alice as an ai is mean, but coME ON HOW APPROPRIATE IS IT (said while in tears)
> 
> i will do my best to update at some point in the Near Future but until then you can find me at @esnoyuuutsu on twt


	3. assorted horizons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tried something a bit experimental? haven't written like this in a while, i think.  
> also i did glitchy text a lot i'm sorry if it's hard to read
> 
> if you want to listen along uhhh most of these are too short for that but on [my playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7lWOQ02vEcBDyPVhlhFIc3?si=hoOJvKD1SyWcaSmmNyWZ4w) this chapter starts at shokumotsu ga tsuranaru sekai and ends at rinne!

_By《rejecting》 , what changes?_

_where does life begin and fade away?_

_the boy without a voice under《autumn leaves》—̵̡̡͍̤̩̺̬͉̱͓͔͈̼̉́̈́̾̌̿̆̇͐͒͘ͅͅ_

"I couldn't do it."

He clutches Azami's hands to his chest.

"Acting is important to me, but if I have to hurt my best friend to succeed in that troupe, then I—̸̖̇"̸̱̾̚

Z̷G̶V̴h̸Z̸C̷9̸1̵b̵m̵R̶l̸Y̶W̸R̵8̵Z̶m̷l̴y̴Z̶S̴B̸1̴c̵C̵w̵g̴b̴W̵F̶u̶d̷G̷9̶1̸I̷G̸Z̶p̴c̴3̶R̵8̷d̴G̸F̷n̶I̸G̵1̵h̶d̷G̸N̶o̸O̶i̸B̶o̶Y̴W̷x̷s̸b̸3̴d̴l̶Z̸W̷4̸g̴J̸z̵E̶4̵

* * *

_̵̜͔̬̬̔̉̿̿̇̍what do words tell those with different views?_

_the unnamed actor who waited alone in the《cold winter》̴—̶_

"No! I won't let you take him."

"You can't support us and you know it. I just want what's best for our son."

"By taking him away from everything that's familiar?"

His wife stares as their son clings to him in fear. "Isn't that what you did to me?"

He looks down into wide green eyes, the most emotion he'd seen them show in years.

"...that's why you can't."

m̷F̶n̸Z̷W̸t̸p̷I̸G̷5̶v̵I̷G̸9̶w̵Z̶X̵J̵h̶f̸G̷R̸p̸Z̵S̷B̷i̶e̴S̵B̴0̵a̸G̸U̶g̸c̴3̸d̸v̴c̴m̶Q̴=̵

* * *

_̴̲͝what does the playwright rely on in the dark?_

_the《dandelions》along the water’s surface—̶̳̎_

“He’s my friend! Even if his family isn’t like ours—̷̧̰͈͙́̽͂”̷̻̽̆̒́

̸ ̵ ̵ ̸ ̸ ̵ ̴ ̸ ̸ ̸ ̶ ̴ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̷ ̴ ̶ ̵ ̶ ̵ ̶ ̷ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̶ ̷ ̵ ̴ ̴ ̶

Tsuzuru thanks him for coming by again, and he’s glad to be there. The play goes without a hitch.

ḍ̴̮͘G̵̠̓͜h̶̬̺ḷ̷͖͐I̵̯̲̓Ǧ̶̡͘N̵̠͓͑̈́s̶͈̪͝b̸̬̙̉͘2̴͇͑̈́N̸̰͘r̷̺̯͐͘d̷̢͆2̴̨̋̀9̶̹̅y̷̨͒͠a̴̢͙̽ÿ̶̤̤́Ḃ̸̖o̴̫̗͆̔Ẕ̸͉̓̍W̶̘͐͑F̸͇̋̆y̷̡͊d̷͚̐G̵̻͗J̵͎̰́̚l̷̤̬͂͛Ŷ̶͍̪̀X̶̥̄̊Q̸̥̓=̶͙̂

Mizuno sets a bouquet of dandelions by Tsuzuru, fast asleep against his desk. He glances at the half-written script on the computer screen, and smiles.

c̴n̶V̴u̸I̸G̶F̴y̴b̵3̸V̸u̸Z̴C̴B̶0̶a̵G̸U̶g̷Z̵m̴l̶l̵b̸G̸Q̷u̶

* * *

_what does sadness truly tell between life and death?_

_the《hawkfinch's nest》abandoned in summer—̸̡̥̤́_

Late at night, Madoka hears a noise from his brother’s room. Against his better judgement, he runs out to find Misumi, half out the window.

"...niisan?"

"Madoka?" His brother steps down, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Go back to sleep, I'm just going to the roof."

"To look at the moon, right? I want to come with you."

He can see Misumi's eyebrows drawing together.

"No, Madoka, go back to bed. You have school tomorrow, you know? It's no good for you to stay up."

Madoka's hands roll into fists. "Where are you really going? Just because our parents are...like that, doesn't mean you can just, just—"

"Madoka..." Misumi smiles, an unspeakable pain in his eyes. "What else can I do?"

He hears a noise, or thinks he does, the auditory hallucination of their father walking down the hallway.

"Take me with you."̸̿ͅ

“̶̩̝͈̳̱͐̍̿̕͝We don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Maybe we should call the police?” The theatre manager scratches his head, and before Madoka can say no, the director interrupts.

“Misumi-kun, are you interested in theatre?”

Between the actors’ shocked exclamations, Misumi nods. “I know about theatre!”

She promises him onigiri, and he eagerly accepts. “What about you, Madoka-kun?”

He looks at the floor somewhere around the director's feet. "I'm not really a stage person, but...maybe I can write."

"Really?" She smiles. "We only have one person handling all the plays at the moment, so if he could get some assistance that would be great. Now Summer Troupe is complete!"

Izumi shakes his hand, and then his brother's.

"Welcome to Mankai, both of you!"

In the Ikaruga household, a man flips through a stack of play flyers.

"And so, they lived happily ever after? Hm."

Y̴2̷F̵w̵d̵G̶F̸p̷b̶i̵B̵z̷a̵3̸k̵g̴c̶G̸l̷y̶Y̵X̵R̷l̷c̸w̴≠=̵

* * *

_those who ̴̨͓̽̈ ̸̺̈͝ ̶̢͚̅ ̶̳̿ ̴̥̖̇ ̷̘́͗ ̷̤͚̉ ̵̹̏̾ ̴̠̎̈́ ̶͎̐ ̴͍̏ ̵̹̗̍ ̵̟̳̓ ̷̤̿͝ ̸̼̎ ̸̡̅ ̸̠͛ in the <̷̣̗̊͘<̷̘͗̈́ ̷̮̖͐́ ̶̥̎̑ ̴͇̈ ̷̢̤̊ ̴̼̈ ̴̜̉̿ ̵̫̫̓̎ ̷̞̓̕ ̸̰̬̈̅ ̷̺̑̊͜ ̵͈͔͑ ̶̫̖̏̆ ̸̥̩́ ̵̞̞̅̍ ̸̢͌ ̸̼̂͜ ̸̭͊ ̶̚ͅ ̶̛̤͛ ̸̧̿ ̸̤̉ ̷̟͊ ̴̞̿̽ ̴̳̘̒ ̷͙̣͊̄>̶̛̰̍>̷̲̍ _

_t̴h̸e̶y̴ ̷a̵r̷e̷ ̷t̶h̶e̴ ̶͎͈͗ ̴̖͚̄͝ ̴̛̳̋ ̷̞̓̕ ̴̨̼̎ ̵̼͙̅ ̶̼̓ ̷̜̋ ̴̫̓ ̴̟̭͊͊ ̴̢̹̋̈ ̵̘̐ ̵̬̇̚ ̶̝͂ ̶̹̈́͐—̶̥̾̓_

"So for our first mixed troupe play, the leads are Itaru-san and Misumi-kun, and they'll be joined by Sakyo-san and Tsumugi-san."

"Sounds like an interesting combination." “I’ll do my best.”

"I get to be in the lead with Itaru!" "Let's get along, huh?"

̵͈͘ ̴̰̊ ̵̯́ ̵̫̽ ̷̮̈́ ̴̱̑ ̴̟͠ ̵̛͔ ̵̠̔ ̶̨̌ ̴̩͊ ̴̙ ̷̳̈ ̸̨̔ ̷̛̳ ̷̘̈ ̸̡̎ ̸̦͑ ̴̤͗ ̶̩̓ ̸̭̍ ̸̾͜ ̵͔͌ ̸̞͂ ̴͇͝ ̸̩͝ ̷̻̾ ̷̯̃ ̸̗̚ ̵̱ ̵̹̑

Misumi looks at the classroom desks, quietly in thought.

"Something wrong?" says Itaru. He's standing by the door surreptitiously glancing out at the hallway, ducking back in when teachers pass by like a student who most definitely did something he shouldn't have.

"Itaru…" Misumi tilts his head. "Weren't you lonely?"

"I liked to think I wasn't," Itaru replies. The setting sun lights up the empty classroom, the shadow of his younger self sitting by the window, long and cold. "Don't think that's true now, though."

Misumi's face drops into a frown as he runs over to Itaru.

"Hey, no need to get sad on my account." Itaru pulls a smile but immediately gets the wind knocked out of him as Misumi throws his arms around him. "I'm...we're okay now, right?"

"...yeah! Cause there's Summer, and Spring, and everyone." Misumi takes out a small pyramid-shaped packet of chocolates and pushes them into Itaru's hands. "So it's okay."

"You're a good kid, Misumi."̵̡̳̳̬͖̰͉̇̀̐͒͋

The rest of the mixed p̴l̴a̶y̷s̷ ̶͕̗̒͛̈ ̷̡̛̇̈ͅ ̴͓̏ ̸̘̩̦̅͝ ̷͍̦͚͘͝͠ ̸̲̩̅͜͝ ̷̬̺̟̈́ ̶̫̈ ̸̦̗̅ ̵̝̦̪͋͌̚ ̴̖͕̚͜ ̶͕̺͕̊̓ ̷̻̭̼͐͆ ̴͕̔̆̎ ̴̹̂͝ ̴͠͠ͅ ̷͍̝̓ ̵͈͙̓͝ ̵͖̠́͜͠ ̷͓̫͛͝ ̸̮͙͝ ̴̟̙̫̎ ̶̖̔̉ ̸̬̰̾ ̸̥̐

b̵͍͍͎̹̥͍̂͋̌̅G̷̺͇̽͒͗͗͌V̵̧̊̄̂̽͑0̵̛̟͓̝̘͚̫͇͋͐͂̕͝J̵̡͕̟̭̱͇̈̾̐̀͑͋͝3̵̻͂̇̚Ḿ̴̼͍̻̳͘g̵̛̳̭̭̐̀̌̚̕ͅẎ̸̫̐̊̚͝m̷̨͉̘͙̭͙̏͊x̷͖̳͇̼̲̭̆v̷̧̢̹̫̗̯̒b̴̞͊͗2̵̮̩̘̻̬̟̑̿͑̐͝0̷̧̛͎̉͆̎̓h̴̨͔̩̜͎̳̃͆͌I̸͎͕̫̥̳̹̎̏̌̑͌G̴̩͖̯͐͌̈́̅͐Ṋ̸̖̪͍̈̅̐õ̷̢̢̩̟̬̺̻̌̉͂͆̚͝Z̴̫̻̼̆͝Ẅ̷̩̩V̶̤̤͚̫̺̣̞̔̂͊̂͝ÿ̴̼̳̎͑̈́͜I̷̮̜̘͓͓͉͐̽͜G̶͂ͅͅ1̶̢̰̭̰̃ḩ̶͇̯͌̽̆̀͝b̴̯͙̭́̓͂͌͘͠m̸̮̺͙͠t̴̪̫̩̃̽̐̕h̶̟̘͙͈̒͝͠a̴̲͉͔͊̌̒e̶̗̮̟͋̐̔̃̇̉̂K̵̨̖͍͔̪̄̓̈̔̔̿Y̴̢̡͎̮̫͓̬͛̚ȟ̵͕̯̭̪͍̙͉̊͝g̷͚̝͊̓̊͘≠͍̹̙̘̟̌̑=̴̮͓̬̯̝̌̔̄̿̉

b̷̠̓G̶̲̍l̶̝͘z̷̰̀d̷͖̏G̷̬̋V̶̛̤u̸̜̿Ị̶̑H̷͉R̶͖̋ȏ̶͜a̸̤̒X̵̱͝M̴̰̾g̷͙ḁ̶̚X̷̜́M̵͙̈ḡ̵̻a̴̗ň̵̟V̷̨̛z̴̻̀d̸͓͐Č̵͍B̵̥͌ṗ̶͉Z̸̤͗i̴̳̒Ḇ̸͛z̷̢̿Ỹ̸̺W̷̮͛t̴̯̚5̵̹̅b̷̤̆y̶̤̎B̸̰̈õ̶͇Ÿ̷͙W̶̝͝R̵̟̒ù̶̳J̶̪͂3̵̉͜Q̷̼͋g̶̩̈́Z̷̹̈́2̵͎̓9̴̝͒0̷̣̈́d̸͔͑G̷̫̋V̸̛͖ũ̸̱Ȋ̸̟Ḧ̸̱B̷͉̈́1̶̖͗c̶̦̑2̸̦̕h̷̞͋l̶̬̇Z̸̬͛C̴̦͋B̸̠͑v̴̬͑d̴̳̆X̵̢Q̵̱̐g̸͔͗Y̴͔̅n̸͉̎k̵̬̎g̵͎̈́Z̴̡̐2̶̨̋F̸̯̄j̸̜̒a̶̝͂G̵̺̈l̸̠͑ṅ̸͍Ẕ̸͋S̵͓̆B̷͎̿2̸̥͑b̷̤̎3̷̩̔R̵̼̔l̴͈̍c̶̨̋n̵͉͋M̷̞͂u̷̖I̷̝̔G̷̛̯Z̵̞͠p̷̹̄c̴̟͘n̷͇̾N̷̜̏0̵̣̿Í̷͚G̴͉͒F̸͇̊u̶̘̿b̵̫m̵̖̄l̸̟͑2̴͎̽I̴̛̻H̸͚͐ḓ̵͝ḣ̷̳c̴̱͂ÿ̴̱B̷̪͋ȟ̷̥Ị̶G̶͖͌1̸͙p̸͓̂ć̴̫3̷̖̎R̷̞̓h̷̖̋a̵͚͌2̴̻̌U̵͍̇u̴̬̾

* * *

Hisoka whipped the shades off at the growing static crackling in his ears, and after a moment’s hesitation, put them back on.

“What...was that.”

Homare closed his eyes, brows drawn in thought. “My apologies, my boy. It seems some of my data has been corrupted, or incomplete? I suppose it can’t be helped, considering how long I’ve been asleep.”

“I thought you were supposed to be an advanced AI. Seems kinda shitty to me.”

“Well!” Frowning at Summer’s giggling, Homare indignantly adjusted his scarf. “If you would allow me to show you another…?”

“I guess.” Hisoka shrugged.

A glint in his eye behind the sunglasses, Homare waved a hand.

“The next story, as many of ours do, begins in a theatre—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't realise how much misumi appeared in these until i wrote out everything www
> 
> aNYWAYS i'm working on the next part, very slowly making progress. after this it's full chapters, this one is p much "stuff i couldn't write entire alternate timelines for" oops
> 
> etc etc i'm at esnoyuuutsu you can talk to me if you want etc


	4. turn your hate in for flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this took so long sdkfjskdf  
> anyway here's the first chapter that's a full other timeline, and if you are in fact listening with the playlist for some reason, this ch is nikushimi wo hanataba ni kaete!

c̶̙̚H̴͓͒J̷̙̕v̶̨̕b̴̳̓G̶͇̓9̸͙̑n̵͎d̵̻́W̵̙͂V̵͔͐8̵̗̌Ÿ̵̱́W̸̮͂N̸̲̂0̴̧͝Î̶͙D̸̄ͅR̷̪͊8̶͘͜a̸̻̽G̶̩̈F̶̤́s̸̜͌b̷͎̐G̵̼̀9̶͖͝3̴͍̊Z̵̲͝W̵̧̿V̴̛̦u̷̠͠Ḯ̵̗C̷̦̽c̵̢̒x̶̥̐N̷̨̐w̶̖͌=̴͇=̶̺̽

“So you made Nanao spy on them.”

Reni is silent as Tasuku clenches his jaw.

“Did you know?”

As Tasuku turns to him, Haruto’s thoughts begin to spin around in his head.

“Yeah, but…”

Why was it that he joined this theatre troupe in the first place?

He had his own standards, but when did they drop so low that trying to win without acting was something to which he could turn a blind eye?

In his mind, as Tasuku talks about leaving, Haruto can see the view of the audience from the centre of the stage. The lights on him, and him alone.

The spotlights are bright and distant as twinkling stars, far out of his grasp.

The lead role, God-za’s top actor...with Tasuku gone, he can claw his way to the place where he knows he belongs.

And yet…

The theatre is dark and empty.

“I can’t keep working with someone who would ruin the stage.”

“Tasuku, wait!”

Haruto looks up, trying to decipher the expression on Reni’s face as he stares at Tasuku walking away.

“...we’re leaving. Don’t just stand there.”

Reni shoves him aside, but Haruto’s still frozen in place.

“I…”

_is it really that hatred creates only hatred?_

_the actor unable to《b̷l̶o̵o̵m̷》in the hands of god—̶_

“Haruto, stop trying to follow me.”

Tasuku stops in his tracks, Haruto mirroring him as he trails behind.

“I’m not coming back.”

“I know that!” Haruto frowns, clutching the sleeves of his crossed arms. “Look, I’m not following you. You left first, and we’re walking in the same direction.”

“...first?”

Haruto looks at the ground. “Well...if we can’t win on our own strength, then what’s the point.”

“You didn’t think to say that earlier?”

“Why do you think I’m out here now?” He looks up at Tasuku, waiting for some kind of response—he figured it usually took Tasuku a minute or two to piece together his thoughts when there wasn’t a script in front of him to follow, so watching him struggle for a bit could serve as a brief moment of levity for Haruto in these trying times.

“At least take some responsibility,” Haruto continues, getting no answer. “I guess you should be proud that your outburst moved something in my heart, or whatever, but that also means it’s your fault I’m out of a job now.”

“It really isn’t.” Tasuku turns, only for Haruto to grab his wrist.

“We don’t have anywhere else to go, Reni-san is going to make sure of it. I’d have to go back home, and you’ve acted your whole life, right? You and I are in the same boat now.”

Haruto stares Tasuku right in the eyes, waiting for the guilt-ridden kind heart to kick in.

“...fine, we can look for a job together. I’m used to acting with you anyway.”

He grins, a small triumph. “I knew you were too soft to say no.”

Tasuku’s brow crumples. “But if you make another comment like that, I’m abandoning you.”

Miming zipping his lips with one hand, Haruto nods and falls back in step with Tasuku down Veludo Way.

If Haruto believed in taking what he wanted through any means other than through his own actions—moral or otherwise—maybe he’d think that there was someone looking out for the two of them on their search for another stage to act on.

As it turns out, there _are_ troupes desperate enough for actors that they’ll ignore threats from God-za, not just that little crumbling theatre on the edge of town. It’ll work since anything is better than going back home now, but his old self keeps haunting him.

“I came down here cause I heard Haruto-kun moved, but it just doesn’t feel right…” “I know...wasn’t he better before? Tasuku-kun too. It’s like they’ve just had the life taken out of them.”

Haruto grits his teeth. He can hear Reni’s words ringing in his ears.

If he can throw himself away for the sake of the audience and do as he’s told, then he can do anything.

But he doesn’t exist on stage. It doesn’t have to be him up there. Another young foolish thing with a sweet smile and bright eyes can steal his place in the spotlight, as he tried to with Tasuku, and how Reni himself certainly must have to some poor soul long ago.

Nothing changes, and he’ll fade from memory.

Which, he supposes, is all the more reason to hold on.

Whatever it is keeping Haruto on stage in spite of everything, it certainly doesn’t let go even as the weeks pass.

He’s always wanted more for himself, he’s sure. More than just living out a life in some little town with his family—to be someone, to be something. You could call it greed, but everyone wants more than what they have, right? Haruto had the right to reach for the stars as much as anyone else, and he took it.

But somewhere between leaving home for bright shining Veludo Way and being two steps away from position zero, he must’ve lost a part of himself. There was no way of finding it again, but maybe quieter street acts and calmer audiences could come up with something close.

He’s not fond of thinking about it too much, but falling from God-za’s graces, starting over with a new troupe, with new people—Tasuku aside, of course—is probably a chance to look back on his relationship with theatre. He’s not ready to admit it to anyone just yet, but maybe acting can be...fun?

Naturally, he’s always known that in the back of his mind, but not cautiously walking along the lines Reni drew to keep him in place gave Haruto more time to consider it.

It’s something that floats up to his thoughts as he smiles and bows for the handful of viewers at the theatre, as he thanks the audience for watching him and his co-workers.

Something that reminds him of being a stupid country boy, young, blinded to the cruelty of living as an actor by the lights of the stage.

Haruto hasn’t quite softened so much that a thought like that could pass him by without a fleeting feeling of revulsion, but he swallows it to flash a last smile at the audience before following the rest of the cast into the wings.

He doesn’t need to change so much just yet.

Reaching once again for the spotlights he’d always admired on his own terms would take more work than it had the first time, but if he, a puppet Kamikizaka Reni created, could cut his strings and be free, who was to stop him?

“Haruto?”

The lights are surprisingly gentle on Tasuku, illuminating his no longer typecast as princely features. 

Even with Tasuku—the man he’d bitterly loathed and envied—next to him, Haruto’s almost enjoying himself. Acting with him feels familiar since they usually had to be together anyway, but without the need to push Tasuku down and take everything from him, it’s strangely comforting to turn and see him there, as always.

Just a fellow actor on the same stage, doing his best to get by, and they’d do so together.

Haruto opens his mouth to respond, smiles and shakes his head.

“Let’s go.”

It’s getting gray out, as winter starts to pick up. A chill wind blows a poster off the theatre walls, to the feet of a young actor walking down Veludo Way. He looks at his friend’s face smiling out at him, and the wind just becomes that much colder.

* * *

“I’m not sure I liked that one.”

Hisoka frowned, shifting in his spot on the floor.

Homare blinked, seemingly taking in information. “I see. It’s the possibility of being separated from Winter, your beloved family, is it not?”

Not wanting to give him a response, Hisoka reached over to fluff Muku’s cat ears, his expression cloudy.

“Well, might I suggest one last show? One just for you, my dear.”

Still refusing to look up at Homare, or the AI masquerading as him, against his better judgement, Hisoka nodded slowly.

The ceiling began to part, the moon shining above them.

"In another life, before the one you had now—"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE i'm doin my best to write the rest of this au, there's just one more after this but who knows when i'll get that done lol!!
> 
> writing this ch felt so much like rewatching revstar oh my god there's so much M A B U S H I I and stage stealing i'm so ?????? theatre kids be like that i guess
> 
> if u wanna talk to me i'm at esnoyuuutsu on twitter!


	5. don't forget that moon // a sin called love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> genuinely? i am so sorry for the formatting in this one bUT I HAD AN IDEA AND IT REFUSED TO LEAVE ME ALONE so here ya go. if somehow you are still listening along, this one is wasurenazukiyo and ai to iu na no toga, played simultaneously to create a horrible cacophony (i'm kidding listen to them separately please.)

As always, the moon is shining brightly, even in the pitch black sky. But can its rays reach even the darkest corners of the night?

Y̷W̴N̴0̷N̷G̵N̴o̶M̷z̵E̵v̸Y̴W̵N̶0̴N̴W̷N̸o̷N̴C̸0̶x̸M̸i̷0̴x̴O̷C̴0̴y̵M̴y̴0̸y̶N̶S̵0̶z̵N̸C̵9̶w̵b̵G̵F̷5̴M̶j̴V̴j̶a̴D̴I̶t̷N̴C̵0̵2̵L̵T̷c̸t̴O̵C̸0̵x̸M̶S̷8̴=̷

c̸G̴x̴h̴e̵T̷E̴y̷Y̵2̵g̸3̴L̵T̸g̸v̸Y̵W̷N̵0̴O̶G̵N̶o̶N̴S̶0̵x̴N̷C̴9̷w̴b̵G̵F̶5̵M̸j̶V̷j̴a̶D̸c̶t̴O̵C̶8̴w̷N̶T̸A̶5̸M̴T̸h̷j̵a̶D̵E̴x̵L̸3̶B̴s̸Y̵X̵k̵z̸M̵G̷N̶o̴M̷S̵0̴z̷L̸T̷k̶v̸

“I’d like to say I can’t believe that you would betray the organisation,  
but at this point I feel more like I should have seen it coming from miles away, August.”   
July’s voice is even, but his shaking hands reveal the emotions he always tries so hard to obscure.  
If he glares at August any harder, his eyes are going to fall out of his head.

August loves his family, but only he knows that December and April aren’t his only family left in the world. No one can say August doesn’t love his children. He loves them like—he would say his own flesh and blood, but he can’t. Not when he knows what he’s left behind.

“No...July, you’ve got it wrong. I’m not betraying anyone, especially not you.”

August takes July’s hands, even as he tries to pull away. “I want to help you. Even if you don’t want to admit it, you’re suffering too.  
I know that it’s frightening to think about losing who you are now to the person you were before,  
but I’ll be right there with you. I’m not leaving you.”

No one’s going to question him, not now. August’s spent enough of his life as a secret agent climbing his way through the ranks to a place when he can do as he wishes—though certainly, that’s a place where someone could easily creep up behind him and slip a knife between his ribs. But if August managed to pick up two poor lost children and train them into agents that could be trusted and relied upon without anyone openly doubting his intentions, maybe it’s time he dance a little closer to the abyss.

“...can I really trust you?”

July turns away from August—suddenly, he’s too bright, the sun burning in the dead of night.

“I’d like to think so?” Too honest, this one.

For someone who likes to coat his words in hopes and dreams the way his medicines are dipped in sugar,  
August likes to open his heart too much. July’s never understood it.

And yet, like a comet drawn by the sun’s pull, he finds himself unable to resist.

“...we’re always together, right.”

“Exactly.”

_What, really, was the moonlight to him?_

_Where does love come from and fade away?_

_The unknown agent who strayed from the《winter moon》—_

August knows where to go. How to find exactly what he’s looking for.

Sometimes he does wonder if anyone’s been keeping tabs on his activity, if there’s anyone who’s found what he’s been watching over all these years.

Sometimes the thought wakes him in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He’s only being selfish, after all. Picking up December and April was selfish. Bringing his only remaining family into the danger that he now lives in? That’s just stupid.

“July, before we leave!” August hands July a file, and one of the vials snatched from his lab.  
July flips through it. Names he doesn’t recognise, faces he’s never seen.  
“I’ll tell you more later, but we have to get out of here before anyone notices.”  
Except for one—his own, long before he stopped seeing it in the mirror as himself.

Underneath—a name.

His head hurts.

He has to go on his own this time, though August already knows that at the very least, April would definitely be able to follow behind him if he left for too long. He raised his son too smart! Too smart for his own good! That’s probably what August would say if April confronted him about any of his sneaking around, but it hasn’t happened yet. Eldest child, trying too hard for his parents, taking care of a wilful if sleepy little brother...that’s a familiar thought.

July has always hated August’s research.

The thought of poking around in his memory sickens him more than he can possibly explain,  
and it’s becoming more clear to him exactly why. But even if the medicine frightens him,  
the hands that made it belong to someone he was always meant to follow.

August is there. Right next to him. As he should be.

Even if he wakes up as someone else, August should still be able to recognise him—  
the way he’s always been able to see through any change in July’s appearance to know it’s him.

He falls asleep next to that same burning warmth.

As August approaches his destination, his worries start to escalate. It’s too late to turn back, of course, but it can’t be helped. He knows how funny brains can be, how pain and fear can swallow up everything else until nothing is left.

What if he isn’t welcome?  
What if there isn’t anyone there?  
What if...he’s already been forgotten?

The apartment building is just in sight.

“I...remember…?”

August is far more excited at this than July is, but it’s only to be expected.

To him, it’s a sign that his work isn’t for nothing, and that the hope he’d had in his heart that he could do something for July,  
someone he foolishly cared so much for, wasn’t so unreasonable after all. But to July, it’s wandering his own thoughts,  
grasping at anything that comes close, anything that seems like it could be an answer. Any little fragment could be a key to unlocking the past that he’d shied away from for so long, but they slip from his hands and cut his fingers.

The pain of remembering comes from the forgotten time lost, and in the time it’s taken July to remember,  
there’s no telling if there’s still anything left for him to find.

As always, August is so kind. Too kind.

He has his own children, his own family, and if July has one that he wants to find now, he’ll do everything in his power to help.  
After all, as long as they have their connections, their information, all that other secret agent bullshit,  
they’ll be able to do anything, won’t they?

  
  


Azuma is alone in his apartment.

A perfectly ordinary statement, and one that’s described most nights for him  
when he isn’t hard at work trying to fill the emptiness in his heart with alcohol and pleasant conversation.

His plans fell through, and he’s resigned himself to silence in the comfortable hell of his living room.  
He’s about to pour himself another drink when the doorbell rings.

He isn’t expecting any company, so who could be at the door?

Not that it really matters, since any company is good company when otherwise you’ll only be haunted by the spirits in your memory.  
He puts his glass down to answer the door.

“...Azuma?”

“Y-yes?”

“It’s...it’s me. Hajime. Your older brother…?”

It seems he’s being haunted nonetheless.

August hesitates, wringing his hands a little. “I know it’s hard to believe, since I know I don’t look the same as I used to. It’s a long story, but the accident…”

He continues his explanation, but Azuma isn’t processing the words so much as the sound of his voice. It _is_ him, that voice Azuma still hears in his dreams so many years later. He’s feared that his memories of his family have been degrading, as they would be with time, with no pictures or recordings of them left behind, only the fragile connections in his thoughts to rely on, but that is exactly his brother’s voice.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to find you,” says July. It’s hard for him to look directly at Azuma,  
both out of guilt and his deeply ingrained hatred of his own reflection, but he’s trying.

“It would take a lot of time to explain, but...I forgot who I was...I forgot you...and if you can’t forgive me for leaving you behind—I don’t know if I can even forgive myself, so I’d understand.” It’s all still so new to him, but for Azuma it must be old wounds being reopened.

From the second he opened the door, Azuma knew.

They no longer have the same pale hair that Hajime said was so pretty, just like their mother’s,  
but their eyes are the same golden yellow, the colour of the sunsets Azuma always feared.

Maybe now he can look at them again.

“N...niisan…”

It’s as if every time Azuma had ever imagined that his brother would someday come home is playing in his head,  
except now, Hajime is actually standing in front of him.

He doesn’t know what to do. Should he be upset? Happy?

Perhaps he should be more cautious—identity theft is something that exists, but he knows it in his heart,  
with every fibre of his being that it really is Yukishiro Hajime at his doorstep.

“It’s probably asking too much of you to let me back into your life after all these years,” says Hajime.  
“But I want to make up for it. I’ll do everything I can...if you’ll let me.”

For the first time in many years, Azuma’s tears aren’t of sorrow.

Before they go, Azuma has one single impulse. It might be worrying to watch, but he goes to the kitchen, a pair of scissors in hand.  
The sound of the blades going through his hair is almost deafening, but he carefully snips through his ponytail,  
all the way through until it falls into his other hand.

“A-Azuma?”

He looks back at his brother, smiling. “It’s symbolic, I guess?”

There’s time for him to grow it out.

August taking in another stray isn’t anything new, so Azuma can quietly be slipped through without any issue. Having all of his family close by, so that he can keep them safe—both the children who learned to love him and the sibling who’d waited for his return—as if it doesn’t matter that he’s no longer quite the perfect light of the organisation he works for, or that he isn’t the ordinary older brother that he once was.

His selfish wish for a happy family, fulfilled.  
And no matter what comes next, he won’t have any regrets.

In the shadows of the moon, another agent has been slowly questioning where August’s loyalties truly lie, and he takes another step closer to their story’s inevitable conclusion.

July introduces Azuma to August and his children— there’s a bit of a funny look there,  
and he supposes that running away with someone into the sunset like this might seem strange,  
but it wasn’t his main concern at the time. August seems happy to meet someone so important to July,  
the first person he’d ever seen July consider family, Azuma is thankful to August for his part in bringing his older brother back,  
and it’s all that July can ask from the only people he cares for.

April is as cautious around Azuma as he is around July, which is unsurprising.  
He’s always been suspicious of July, even before they officially met, the way a child is wary around a new step-parent.  
December, on the other hand, instantly attaches himself to Azuma— the younger Yukishiro is soft and warm,  
and isn’t as prickly as the older one.

“Is he always this familiar with new people?” Azuma asks, laughing softly.  
“He was even afraid of me when we first met!” August says, amused.  
December frowns. “I was a little kid then.”  
“You’re like still a little kid now,” April remarks, and he only holds Azuma tighter,  
as if clutching a stuffed toy. Azuma gently ruffles his hair, and as he smiles,  
something is lifted from July’s heart—

* * *

Hisoka pulled the sunglasses off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the answer to "but if august sounds like this and july looks like that then who's flying the plane?" is actually just yes. the next chapter's the last anD I SWEAR I WON'T TAKE AS LONG, REALLY, I WON'T, I'LL FINALLY BE DONE SOON SDJHDJHF


	6. world end's l

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for this one i ask that you please listen to the song! it's the last one on the list, saihate no l.

After a few moments to think, Hisoka put the shades back on.

“Hisoka-kun?”

On his return, he found Homare—no, no, that wasn’t Homare, it was only borrowing his image—peering at him, the cats gathered around them.

“I...I’ve had enough. Isn’t this too sad already?” Hisoka frowned, ignoring the bright stares fixed on him. “You know, you really aren’t Alice. At least even he’d understand that just deciding people’s lives are a tragedy that can be fixed isn’t right.”

Surprised, the AI put a hand to its chest. Before he could be interrupted, Hisoka continued.

“I know that terrible things have happened to me before, and to everyone you showed me. And I don’t think that anyone deserves that, but it’s because we made the best of what we had that we’re who we are now, and why we’re here today.” A faint image of Winter and the rest of the company, his beloved family smiling together, floated up behind Hisoka. “It’s how I met them, and all of you—the real versions of you.

"Regaining my memories...was painful. Honestly, even now I'm scared of being loved again, and that I'll be betrayed a second time. But I know that without everything that I went through before, I wouldn't be this same person, with the people I love, and this place I call home." The resounding echo of applause after a show briefly rang through the air, and he paused, thinking of someone long gone. "I don't know if that's the right answer, but maybe there isn't one. This is just how people live their lives, so you're in no place to deny them.

"...I'm kinda dumb, so I'm no good with words, but...that's how I feel." Suddenly exhausted, Hisoka ended his speech.

The cats looked back and forth between the AI and Hisoka, waiting for a response.

_ The stars are truly beautiful. _

It was less speaking, more of the thoughts making their way directly into Hisoka's head.

_ If my actions are unwanted intervention, then why was I created? _ Still a near-perfect impression of Homare, deep in thought, contemplating the moon, the AI stared up at the projected night sky.  _ No...perhaps the reason I exist is to find an answer to that question on my own. _

The AI turned to Hisoka, a familiar wistful smile on its face.  _ It seems that I am more of a hopeless fool than you, my boy. My words may not be enough...but I shall find another way. _

Hisoka braced himself for some equivalent of Homare's usual poetry, pieced together via artificial intelligence through his own memories, but instead...the AI began to sing.

No words, just a simple melody.

Softly at first, but the cats joined in as well—followed by other voices that Hisoka recognised as the people whose lives he'd seen. Even he couldn't help but follow, as easily as if he'd known the song from memory. Soon, it was as if he could hear everyone he knew, humming with that gentle melody.

Carried along by their voices, a sense of wonder. The feeling of questioning your own existence, and deciding to walk along your own path you create for yourself.

The spirit of curiosity, a need to know what could have happened in events unseen, a desire that lives in every heart.

The possibilities in every universe are infinite, and the lens we see through one of many, so who's to say any interpretation is incorrect?

As they sang, the surroundings began to vanish, pixels slowly fizzling out. The AI and its cats gave Hisoka their goodbyes, returning to the sleep they'd lived in for so long.

_ Take care, Hisoka-kun. Thank you for your time. _

* * *

"...Hisoka-kun." "Hisoka?"

Hisoka awoke in the attic room, lines on his face from being pressed so hard against the pillows. Nearby, Homare and Azuma—the real ones this time! Hisoka was nearly embarrassed at how his heart jumped at the thought—were looking him over in concern, Homare already pulling a pack of marshmallows from his jacket, Azuma gently running a hand over Hisoka's hair.

"Goodness, do you have any idea how long we've been searching for you?" Homare put away the marshmallows, to some disappointment from Hisoka. "And you were just sleeping up here."

"You were gone for a while, so everyone got worried," said Azuma, as always taking the softer meaning behind Homare's exasperated outbursts. "Winter all looked for you together."

Still rattled from his dreams that were already starting to fade from his mind, overcome with emotion at the mere idea of Winter caring enough to come find him—even if that was something he already knew—Hisoka threw his arms around Azuma and Homare.

"Oh? Is something the matter, my dear?" Homare blinked in surprise, though still comfortingly laying a hand on Hisoka's arm.

Azuma put an arm around Hisoka in return. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Something like that." Hisoka squeezed them tightly, paying no mind to their amusement—so Hisoka-kun is this clingy after all! Fufu...he really is—and after a few moments, reluctantly let go.

"Alice. Azuma." The scent of flower petals and tea leaves, note paper and crushed sugar whirled around his head. "...thanks."

"Hm?" "Whatever for?"

There weren't enough words in the world—at least, not any Hisoka would be able to string together—to explain how he felt, not just towards the two of them, but for all the other members of their troupe who had accepted him as one of their own, and so he simply shook his head.

"...just wanted to say it."

"Is that so." Homare's smile read,  _ what a strange one you are,  _ clear as day—the one person Hisoka didn't want to hear that from, but he said nothing. "Well, you're welcome, I suppose.

"Here, we've dallied long enough! We won't be hearing the end of it from Tasuku-kun and our dear director now."

Azuma took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Everyone's waiting for you, Hisoka."

He squeezed back, Azuma's hand soft and delicate in his own. "...let's go."

It was a long journey, but finally, he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AT LAST IT'S DONE!!! thank you for bearing with me all this time. this au is super self-indulgent and i tried being more...experimental? i guess? with the glitchy glitchy and the funky formatting on the augju chapter, and if you read all of this and you liked it then i'm glad!! and if u weren't into sanhora but u are now bc of this then ;) all according to keikaku ;)))
> 
> if you wanna talk to me i'm p much always at esnoyuuutsu on twt!


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